


it's chill in the wind (but it's warm in your arms)

by StormStar11273



Category: Spring Awakening - Sheik/Sater
Genre: Canon Compliant, Cute, DWSA - Freeform, Fluff and Smut, M/M, hernst, my junk, spring awakening - Freeform, two bros chilling in a vineyard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-17
Updated: 2019-01-17
Packaged: 2019-10-11 12:55:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17447384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StormStar11273/pseuds/StormStar11273
Summary: The dusty road on the way to the vineyard was a comfort to the pair. It meant that with every step they take they are closer to speaking, to touching freely, away from prying eyes and ears. Coming upon the oak behind the church, Hanschen lightly grasps Ernst's fingers, letting them intertwine the way they were always meant to.





	it's chill in the wind (but it's warm in your arms)

His bed is cold in the morning. It's always cold in the mornings.

Ernst lies flat on his back, lost in contemplation and hypothermia - Hanschen always forgot to close the window when he left. What he wouldn't give to wake up, warm and sated, with Hanschen in his arms. To feel soft breath on his neck - to hear the soft rustling of crisp sheets - to feel unconscious weight pressing him into the mattress until he feels his soul inside his body again.

To know he is loved.

To know he is home.

If he didn't have the evidence of his lover's visit on his skin (and the open window) he would have thought that the whole encounter was a dream. But oh, what a sweet dream it would be.

Ernst loves to watch Hanschen sleep, lost in dream - although he rarely had the opportunity to do so. He just looked so soft- boys didn't usually look soft when they were awake. The furrowed brow softened, letting blond locks lay there in peace instead of being swept out of the way. The hardened and clenched jaw releases, loose and relaxed in deep slumber. The jawline that was so sharp it could slice your hand if you but grazed against it was as delicate as a the wing of a butterfly.

He was still. He was at peace. He was happy.

Hanschen didn't usually look happy when he was awake.

"Ernst," his mother peaks her head into his room, pulling him out of his head with her sweet and timid voice, "it's time to get up for school, dear."

"I'm awake, Mama," Ernst replies softly, laying still on the mattress as he hears his mother leave and the door creek closed once more.

"Mama," he calls after her. She returns, poking her graying head into the room once more, "I wonder if I might go over to Hanschen Rilow's house after school today?" Ernst asks, as he did almost every Friday, knowing Hanschen was asking his mother if he could go over to the Robel's. The pair rarely ended up where their parents believed them to be - opting for places where they could be truly alone together. His mother smiles and nods, leaving Ernst once more to get ready for school.

School. He combs his hair, buttons his shirt, buckles his shoes, he sees Hanschen. Hanschen sees him. They nod like nothing ever happened the night before. Like nothing ever happens.

He knows it's not Hanschen's fault, it's not his own fault either- it's no one's fault that they can't smile at each other for too long in the classroom, or hold hands while they're walking home, or kiss when they reach the front door when the neighbors might be watching. But that didn't mean it doesn't hurt.

"Gentlemen, please turn in your verses on my desk, and I will see you Monday morning, seven A.M," Herr Sonnenstitch announces dryly, forcing Ernst out of yet another daze.

Ernst always looked forward to the weekend- sleeping late, no Latin or arithmetic, and ample time to spend however he wished, with whomever he wished.

As he pushes his personal effects into his satchel, Hanschen Rilow stops round his desk, drumming his fingers lightly on the worn wooden surface. Ernst's heart skips a beat- after so many years of more-than-friendship, he still found himself excited and nervous in the presence of the other boy.

"Shall I walk with you, Ernst? I was hoping that you might help me with some of my conjugations," Hanschen explains, a smile twitching at the edge of his lips.

"Of course, I'd be happy to help a friend," Ernst replies casually, shouldering his satchel as he pushes in his chair, waving to Georg and Otto as they take their leave.

The dusty road on the way to the vineyard was a comfort to the pair. It meant that with every step they take they are closer to speaking, to touching freely, away from prying eyes and ears. Coming upon the oak behind the church, Hanschen lightly grasps Ernst's fingers, letting them intertwine the way they were always meant to.

"You left the window open," Ernst teases, smiling softly. Hanschen lets out a frustrated sigh.

"I'm sorry, my love. There's no excuse for my carelessness. Can you ever forgive me for freezing you half-to-death each night?" Hanschen laments, wrapping his arm around Ernst's waist and pulling him close, as if to make up for the warmth that the boy lost in the night. Even though he was one for dramatics, Ernst knew that Hanschen's apology was sincere. Earning such a profound apology from his usually curt and calculated classmate made him feel something - proud? Triumphant? Worthy?

Shrouded in the towering vines that cling to one another so unapologetically, wrapping around rows upon rows of tall wooden stakes, the lovers are safe to do as they please. They settle at the base of an old maple tree at the edge of the vineyard. Ernst takes an old green blanket from his satchel that he had taken out of his home weeks before, spreading it at the base of the tree. Leaning back against the rough, yet familiar, bark Ernst pulls out a book that Hanschen had lent him weeks ago. When he is still, Hanschen rests his head in the other boy's lap, allowing Ernst's free hand to card aimlessly through his hair, both of them relishing in the contact.

"Ernst, you are so quiet. Truly, I apologize for leaving the window open last night," Hanschen reiterates softly, sitting up and turning to face his companion. Ernst exhales, closing his book of sonnets. Gazing upon Hanschen's face, illuminated by the setting sun, Ernst sees kindness and concern. He wonders how someone like Hanschen can be so devoted to him.

"It's not the window, Hans, it's- why don't you wake me? When you leave, I mean." Ernst's words hold no contempt, only curiosity as his hands find Hanschen's, resting in the blond's' lap. Hanschen cocks his head, confused.

"I don't want to disturb you, you look so peaceful when you're asleep. I'd hate to ruin such pure tranquility." Hanschen moves in closer, grasping Ernst's hands tighter. He is solid.

"But I hate that I do not get to say goodbye. I fall asleep and feel like I only dreamt that you were with me. The cold I feel doesn't just come from the window, Hansi," he hesitates, trying to find the words to explain how he felt, "It all feels so unreal to me once you are gone." With his confession, a weight lifts off Ernst's chest, allowing Hanschen to gather him into a tender embrace.

"I'm here, Ernst. I will always be here," Hanschen murmurs, his voice firm and unwavering in Ernst's ear.

"It's silly, of course I know that you are real, but it seems my mind tries to convince me otherwise."

Letting out a short chuckle, Hanschen pulls back, examining the boy he longed to never let go of. His eyes were watery, but he was smiling. Dark brown hair hung carelessly in front of those beautifully deep eyes. After a moment admiring his lover, Hanschen leans back in until their lips meet in a soft yet reassuring kiss.

"This is real," Hanschen whispers when he draws back. He plants a kiss on Ernst's cheek.

"I am real." Kissing his forehead.

"We are real."

He is so confident and so gentle that Ernst cannot resist kissing him back until Hanschen is breathless beneath him, pupils blown wide and tie undone. Ernst works carefully at the buttons of Hanschen's now-wrinkled white school shirt, running his fingers over Hanschen's chest when his work is done. In the beginning, Ernst had been anxious in the prospect of being naked with - who he perceived to be - the far more physically superior blond. But as Hanschen's nimble fingers worked the buttons of his trousers, he relished in the feeling of contentment and completeness to come. He had never fathomed that he could trust another person so wholly with not only his body and mind, but his heart.

Their disappearing clothing reveals marks of passion passed, love letters in red lovingly signed with lips and nails and teeth decorating chests and backs and thighs in a dedication that almost felt like holy devotion. The pair soon found themselves bare, hot skin pressing together against the darkening twilight.

Ernst finds himself on his back, panting as Hanschen's lips wrap around his cock. He lets out a low moan, grabbing a fistful of blond hair as his heart beats faster and faster. Whining as Hanschen pulls his mouth away, he props himself up on his elbows to observe him. Hanschen rummages around in his satchel, extracting a small bottle of lubricant, smiling devilishly.

"Hanschen, what would you have done if someone had found that?" Ernst asks pointedly, shocked at his lovers boldness.

"Ye of little faith, Ernst," Hanschen laughs, uncapping the bottle and drizzling some of the liquid onto his fingers, "I would have blamed it on Gabor."

Sighing, Ernst leans back as Hanschen settles between his thighs, his slick fingers probing his entrance. It was an sort of old ceremony, one they performed countless times, but it never failed to make Ernst's heart flutter in nervous excitement. As he works, Hanschen's free hand is splayed across Ernst's abdomen, the soft pressure grounding the brunet's soaring thoughts to the moment before him. Leaning down close, Hanschen leaves hot, wet kisses down Ernst's heaving chest as he stretches the boy with dark and pleading eyes open for him. Hanschen's nimble fingers grazed against that spot inside of Ernst that made him buck his hips, a soft moan escaping his lips.

Kissing his forehead, Hanschen whispers, "There now, love. Are you ready?" nuzzling into Ernst's neck so sweetly as Ernst's own hoarse voice utters a 'yes.'

Hanschen smiles kindly, pulling away and pouring more lubricant onto his fingers, spreading the liquid onto his member in slow strokes as he gazes at the beautiful young man sprawled out below him. He enters Ernst slowly, eyes glued to his lover's face for any signs of distress.

Inhaling sharply at the pressure, Ernst's initial discomfort quickly melts away when Hanschen angles himself to rub against the other man's prostate. Both exhale deeply at the contact, fragile, vulnerable, _safe_  in the others arms. Hanschen drew out and pushed back in, a movement both gentle and confident, setting a steady pace as his hand grasped Ernst's fist (holding tightly to the blanket beneath them) who relaxes immediately into the simple gesture.

They continue like that, moving together, motivated not for the achievement of their own pleasure, but for the other's. Hanschen felt him reaching the precipice of orgasm first as he rolls his hips into Ernst's, making a conscious effort to deepen his thrusts and make the most of the experience for his partner. Ernst lets his mouth hang open allowing a mindless string of praise to fall from his loose lips, spurring on the angelic blond above him.

"Are you close?" Hanschen pants, never interrupting the rhythm they wrote together. He nods.

"Nearly." He's breathless, fingers scrambling for purchase on Hanschen's back - who is all too pleased with the effect his actions have on Ernst.

Pressing an uncoordinated kiss to his temple, Hanschen deftly reaches a hand between them, stroking Ernst's cock in time with his thrusts, sending the boy over the edge.

" _Hanschen!_ " Ernst cries, his orgasm rocking through him until he is completely spent, draping his arms around Hanschen's neck. The sight, sound, and feeling of his partners climax brings Hanschen to his own as well, coming inside of Ernst with a grunt in relief, collapsing onto Ernst's sweat-dampened chest.

After helping clean each other up with the utmost reverence, the pair curl up together on the green quilt as the stars appear one by one in the purple sky. Peaceful. They lay in the silence, Ernst's fingers running through blond hair as they cool down in the night air.

"I love you," Hanschen murmurs into Ernst's neck; a rare moment of verbal affirmation. Hanschen showed Ernst just how much he loved him plenty, but there was nothing like hearing those sweet words in Hanschen's post-coital raspy voice.

All Ernst could do was keep holding the confident blond boy to his chest, relishing in the solidness and constancy of his presence and whisper back, "I love you," even though it didn't feel like enough. But it was. It had to be.

Ernst didn't mind when the night air settled over them, forcing them to huddle even closer together for warmth. He didn't mind when Hanschen wrapped them in the blanket as if they were infants, making sure his jacket was snug around Ernst's shoulders.

Ernst didn't even mind when he awoke to the cool morning wind against his face. He didn't mind the chill one bit that morning, for he had all the warmth he could ever want nestled cozily in his arms - a beautiful boy with blond hair flopping endearingly over his forehead as he stirred for a moment, dreaming of heaven and tomorrow.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed!!! I love these boys s o much and they deserve all the happiness in the world <3 I also like making fun of Melchior in the middle of sex scenes apparently rip. Comments and kudos are always appreciated <3 Thanks again for reading!!!!!


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